


In Loving Memory

by ourdreamsrealized



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, NSFW, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, Tragedy, rated MA
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-27 10:06:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14423103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourdreamsrealized/pseuds/ourdreamsrealized
Summary: After surviving an accident, Logan wakes with no recollection of his time with the X-Men. He has forgotten most of the people he came to love, and the woman who came to love him back.





	1. Alive and Frustrated

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally posted on my Tumblr: "odr-marvel" (which has been moved to "ourdreamsrealized". It is completed on there, now, but I thought...why not post this on Ao3? I know there must be some of you on here that don't read on Tumblr or would prefer to read the whole thing on here. Even though this is a completed work, I will not be posting the whole thing at once. I will be posting a chapter at a time because I'm evil (Of course, you could always find it on my Tumblr).
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it!

He woke to a blinding light and a throbbing feeling behind his forehead, like something pounding against the inner walls of his skull. He shut his eyes, his lips falling back to reveal his teeth in a sneer. In the process of bringing his hands up to his face, he realized that there was something in his arm, tugging at it.

His eyelids fell open, his head frantically moving to get a better look at just what was protruding from his skin.

_An IV?_

He followed the tube that extended from his limb, up a stand next to him, and to its end, in a bag of clear fluid.

_What happened?_

The thought consumed him as he began to realize he could not, for the life of him, remember, and as time went on, he grew frustrated. Frustrated he could not remember why he was in a hospital bed. Frustrated he could not pinpoint the last memory he had. Frustrated to the point his heart rate increased, his breathing getting heavier by the second.

“Calm down, Logan.”

He responded to the name, recognizing it as his own, and his attention went from his current inability to conjure his past to the two men who were in the process of entering the room.

“You’ve experienced quite the trauma,” the blue-furred man stated, coming to stand at the foot of the bed. He placed his hands inside the pockets of his lab coat and gave his patient an assuring smile. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

Logan internalized this for a moment before letting his eyes fall upon the man in the wheelchair, a man he recognized to be Professor Charles Xavier.

“Why can’t I remember anything?”

The question caused the blue man’s eyes to widen as he turned to look at Charles.

The Professor gave his companion a short nod. He then focused his gaze back on the confused Wolverine, a small smile resting upon his thin lips. “You must understand, Logan, that what you experienced cannot go without consequences, especially with the injuries you sustained. That being said, what do you recall?”

Logan hesitated for a moment before answering, “…I remember my childhood, my namesake, my mutation, and, though some bits and pieces are fuzzy, I could tell you everything that happened to me up to the point of our meeting.”

He looked up from the cream sheets of his bed, his blue eyes falling on his doctor, “He looks familiar, though.”

“I’m Henry McCoy.” He rounded the bedside, his hand outstretched for Logan to shake.

Logan just gave him a crooked grin, shaking his hand with a strong grip, the one of a friend, “Hank. Sorry I was blanking on ya.”

“It is all right, my friend.” Hank grinned, patting him on the back. “Amnesia in your situation is normal, and I will not blame you for something you cannot control.”

“Speaking of situations…” Logan turned to look at Charles. “What _is_ mine? What caused me to forget everything?”

The doctor and the Professor shared another glance, one that left Wolverine feeling slightly uneasy, but before he could point it out, Charles began to explain, “You time traveled. It was an experiment gone wrong.”

“And who was conducting this…wonky test?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. had contacted me about a month ago, asking if anyone among us was willing to try a trial run on this time machine they had been working on. When you got wind of it…”

“…I volunteered,” Logan finished for him, knowing that it was something he would attempt. It was a second chance at making things right again, at giving himself a better life.

“Yes,” Charles sighed, his expression turning grave. “Unfortunately, something went wrong, and we were having trouble bringing you back to the future from the past. Communications went awry. In the end, we were able to return you to _our_ future, which was the present five days ago.”

“And I’ve been nappin’ since then?”

Hank nodded, “When you returned, you were unresponsive, but alive. After examining you closely, I noticed that you had retained some injuries, deep scratches that only required stitching and were nothing your Healing Factor couldn’t handle. The damage to your head, however, was forcing you to remain unconscious.”

“And…now that I’m awake, Doc?” Logan asked, his gaze falling upon Beast.

“Well, it is obvious you are experiencing some memory loss, but anything else…I’ll have to monitor you the next few weeks. You may experience some PTSD, and your memories may return. I have no way of knowing, really. This isn’t a usual case.”

“That being said, I think it is important that you lay low for a while,” Charles interjected, folding his hands in his lap. “That means no training or motor biking.”

Logan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, “Sure, _Mom_ , but last time I checked, I’m a big boy now.”

Charles just smirked at him, “It’s good to see you have retained your sarcastic humor. Now, why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll round up everyone for introductions, assuming you don’t remember them?”

“Sounds good to me.”

* * *

“You’ve really outdone yourself with this school of yours, Professor.”  


Logan was amazed by the rich buildings and never-ending hallways as he walked through them with Charles by his side.

“A lot happened after you joined the X-Men,” Charles replied. “We now house over a thousand students, all of which gifted with special powers, and we’re trying to teach them how to control them.”

“Well, it’s nice to hear that your vision was realized. To be honest, I wasn’t sure this idea of yours was gonna fly.”

Charles simply chuckled. “It is strange hearing you say that, considering you helped in making this all possible.”

Logan went silent at his statement, and the Professor noticed, immediately apologizing.

“I am sorry, Logan. I shouldn’t have—“

“No.” He cut him off, “it’s fine. It’s…freaky for me, too, but Hank did say there was a chance of regaining my memories. I can’t imagine that being easy…”

“No,” Charles agreed, stopping in front of a large double door. “I suppose it can’t be, but you must know that we are all here for you.”

Logan scoffed, but his lips curved into a smile, “Don’t get all sentimental on me, Professor. I was never one for that mushy stuff.”

Charles chuckled, shaking his head, “A truer statement hasn’t been spoken.”

Then, he opened the doors, revealing a gigantic room that resembled a place someone would have a dance or wedding reception at, with its white and black marble floors and eggshell-paneled walls. But Logan didn’t notice that; what his eyes took in were the people.

The space was _filled_ with people.

Logan’s blue orbs scanned the crowd, trying to pick out a familiar face…even a familiar _feature_ , but no one stood out to him until his gaze fell upon a woman who stood towards the back.

She did not ring any bells or whistles within him; as far as he knew, they were strangers, but what really intrigued him was the smile upon her lips and how it didn’t reach her eyes. Man, those eyes held nothing but sadness.

“Allow me to introduce you to some people.”

Logan’s attention was brought to the group right in front of him. It consisted of three people, two being girls and the third being a guy with a pair of shades on.

“Logan, this is Ororo.” Charles pointed to the lady sporting long, bleached hair.

“It’s good to see you again, my friend.” Her ruby lips curved into a kind grin.

“This is Jean.”

Jean beamed at him, extending a hand for him to shake. “It’s good to see you up and about again.”

“Uh…thanks,” he responded, taking her hand gently to shake it.

“And this is Scott.”

Scott saluted him. “It’s been a while. You feeling any better?”

“I’m _alive_ , so I guess that’s a start.” Logan snickered, making the man before him laugh.

“Yeah. It’s good to have you back, Logan.” Scott patted him on the back before placing resting his arm around his shoulders.

“Ororo, Jean, and Scott are all instructors here,” Charles explained. “They all can control their abilities…” He glanced at the man in sunglasses. “for the most part.”

“Hey! I resent that statement!” Scott exclaimed, leaving Logan’s side to argue with Charles while the girls laughed; Jean would insert a comment here or there, mostly proving the Professor’s point.

Logan, though a bit happy that these weirdos were his friends, scanned the area again, becoming slightly deflated once he saw that the woman with sorrowful eyes was missing from the hordes of people.

“Who you looking for?”

Logan nearly unleashed his claws, jumping back from the sudden face that appeared before him.

The girl giggled, her chestnut ponytail falling over her shoulder as she leaned towards him. “I’m Kitty Pryde, a student here.”

“Did I um…know you?”

Kitty pouted, placing her hands on her hips. “Of course you did! You trained me on multiple occasions.”

“And don’t forget _me_!”

Now, Logan did let his claws out, startled by the sudden appearance of a man with blue skin, pointed ears, and a devil’s tail.

“I’m Kurt.” He extended a two-fingered hand. “You also used to train me.”

“Jesus, Kid.” Logan extracted the blades coming from his knuckles. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Kurt grinned, looking at Kitty. “He’s still the same, old Wolverine.”

“That’s for sure,” she agreed, sticking her tongue out at Logan.

Logan scowled at their immaturity, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now, what is that supposed to—”

“Sorry I’m late, guys!” A woman ran over, clad in all black and combat boots.

“Ah, just in time, Rogue,” Charles spoke up. “Everyone was reintroducing themselves.”

The brunette turned to look at Logan, a shy smile on her lips. “Hey, Big Guy. It’s good to see you back on your feet!”

“Thanks…uh…Rogue?”

“Yup. That’s me,” she said, her southern drawl coming out.

“Shall we continue on, Logan? There are many other students here, wishing to greet you,” Charles asked, rolling himself up next to him.

“Sure.” He shrugged. “I got time.”

“Good.” Charles continued forward. “After we all get reacquainted, we’ll have some dinner, and then we’ll debrief you on some of the recent happenings.”

“Happenings?”

“Believe it or not,” Charles looked over his shoulder at Wolverine, pausing for a moment, “a lot has occurred since you left.”

* * *

“Sabretooth.”  


Logan’s skin crawled as he saw the mutant in the hologram before him.

“He’s been showing up around here lately,” Scott stated, placing a hand on the back of Logan’s chair. “No doubt he knows you’ve been incapacitated, and without you around…”

Charles coughed, effectively ending Scott’s statement and raising alarms for Wolverine.

“Without me around…what? No one to make him into a shish kabob?”

“Um…sure…” Scott averted his gaze, ignoring the piercing glare Logan had turned in his chair to grace him with.

“ _Anyway_ , we just wanted to make sure you knew his movements.”

“What about Mystique?”

“She’s still part of the Brotherhood.” Charles breathed, shifting the hologram to a group of mutants that Logan couldn’t recognize.

“The Brotherhood?”

“Yes, a group of mutants like us…”

“Except they believe we should have superiority over humans,” Scott finished for Charles. “Every once in a while they like to shake things up around here, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

“Still, it is important you are aware of our adversaries.” Charles pressed a button, turning off the projected pixels. “Do you have any questions for us?”

“Well…”

There was a bunch of things Logan wanted to ask, especially about his life before the…accident, but he couldn’t think of which ones he would like to pose first. None, except about that woman earlier, who had disappeared on him, and he didn’t understand why she was sticking out in his brain so much.

“Who was that woman?” he found himself uttering.

“What woman?” Charles blinked, folding his hands in his lap.

Logan looked up at him. “There was a woman in the room when you were introducing me to everyone, but you never brought me before her.”

Charles’ stare wavered, finding Scott’s anxious gaze before returning to Logan’s determined one.

“She had E/C eyes and H/C hair…”

“Yes.” the Professor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know whom you are talking about. Her name is Y/N.”

“Y/N?”

For some reason, it didn’t feel foreign to say it. It was like his lips had memorized each syllable, knowing exactly how to form them, but the name did not resonate within him.

And for some reason, he felt even more frustrated.


	2. Significant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in the Reader's POV, but third person. The chapters will alternate between Logan's and the Reader's POV, so the next chapter will be Logan's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am actually quite pleased with the response the first chapter has gotten so far! Thank you all for the kudos, subscriptions, and comments! I hope to post a chapter, maybe two, a week from now on.

You entered your suite, welcomed by your baby’s cries and Rogue’s gentle hushes. You closed the white doors behind you, forcing a smile upon your face as you approached the nursery.

Rogue looked up from the little one in her arms when she heard you approach. “I think she’s hungry.”

“Yes.” You leaned down, taking the squirming babe from Rogue’s arms. “It is about that time.”

Rogue got up from the rocking chair she had been sitting in, and she watched you cradle your daughter in your arms. “How did it go?”

You looked up from D/N’s face to see Rogue’s eyes on your own. You let out a sigh, averting your gaze. “I couldn’t talk to him…”

“Did he see you?”

“Yes. We made brief eye contact,” you whispered watching your girl’s chubby hand play with the locket that rested on your chest, “but there was no recognition in his expression.”

Rogue’s face fell at your statement. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I—”

“It’s okay,” you cut her off, your E/C stare meeting her own. “You should get going to the ballroom. Charles is introducing him to everyone, and I’m sure he’s waiting for your arrival.”

“Will you be alright? Here? By yourself?”

You plastered a grin upon your face; it was something you were getting used to doing. “I’ll be fine, Rogue. Go on. I know he means a lot to you, too.”

“I’ll send Piotr,” Rogue said, leaving before you could protest, but maybe having him here would help.

When you heard the door click behind her, you walked over to the nursery door, closing it so it would only be open a crack, something Logan had taught you before…It was a protective measure, so no one could surprise you like they could if the door was fully closed.

You sat down in the rocking chair and exposed your breast to your child, and she immediately went to suckling it.

“You were hungry, weren’t you?” you cooed, trailing a finger down her plump cheek. “You have an appetite like your father’s.”

In response to your words, your daughter just closed her eyes and continued to feed, her hand resting on the skin over your heart.

_A heart that was slowly breaking._

It had been so hard to learn that he didn’t remember you. You had been the first to learn of his amnesia, and when you did, it felt like your whole world fell apart. Everything you knew he no longer did, so in his mind, what existed wasn’t reality.

Seeing him tonight was a reminder, a cold-hearted slap in the face.

You knew only warmth in those blue eyes of his, but when the bore into your own only moments ago, they were frigid, distant. It hurt.

“Oh! Apologies, I did not realize…”

The voice brought you from your thoughts to find a very flustered Russian before you. He had peaked through the tiny crack you left in the doorway, and, now, he was blocking his line of vision, clearly embarrassed at having seen your chest exposed the way it was.

Rolling your eyes, you gave the big man a warm smile. “It’s alright, Piotr. The only sight you have seen is a mother nourishing her child.”

“Still…I will wait out here until you are decent,” he replied, turning on his heels and making his way to one of the couches.

You shook your head, but let him do as he wished. D/N had just finished, so you covered yourself up and grabbed a towel to throw over your shoulder while you burped her. You then joined Piotr in the family room, sitting on the loveseat and positioning D/N so that her head was over the washcloth on your shoulder.

“She is getting big.” Piotr was the one to break the silence, a smile stretching his lips.

“She is,” you agreed, beginning to pat her back. “She’s already begun to lift her head up, and she isn’t even a month old.”

“She is very smart girl. Not unlike her mother.”

You blushed at the compliment. “Thank you, Piotr.”

A comfortable silence then settled over the two of you, only broken once in a while by D/N’s petite burps and the rhythmic tapping of your hand against her back. Piotr watched the two of you the whole time, an unfaltering smile upon his lips.

And, though, you felt guilty about it later, you wished he was someone else, a _certain_ someone else.

* * *

 

“The Professor and Ororo sent us ahead of them,” Jean explained as she sat down on the edge of your bed.

“They want to talk _now_?” you asked as you shifted through the clothes in your closet. “Isn’t it a little late?”

You had just put D/N down for the night, and, knowing her sleeping pattern, she liked to wake up, screaming at the top of her little lungs, at around three-thirty in the morning. Considering you still had work tomorrow, you would have liked going to bed around the same time she did.

“Well, Charles wanted to show Logan to his room, and Ororo is dealing with the after-dinner clean-up,” Kitty clarified, crossing her arms over her chest. She failed to notice the look Jean shot her way, meant to warn her about mentioning Wolverine.

You froze, hearing his name, clutching the silky fabric of one of your blouses between your fingers; it was something to hold onto.

“ _Anyway_ , are you sure you’re still up to working?” Jean questioned, her brows furrowing in concern. “It’s only been three weeks since you gave birth to D/N, and with the current situation…”

You exhaled, letting your shoulders drop before taking the shirt off the hanger. “I feel fine, and Hank says I can go back to my job, since it will only be a few hours a week. Plus, I can’t be a burden on Charles.”

“But Charles doesn’t care about that, Y/N,” Kitty pointed out as you laid your outfit for the following day next to Jean. “He worries about you, and he only wants what’s best for you—for all of us.”

“I know.” You grinned at her, straightening and placing your hands on your hips. “But _I_ care about it, Kitty. I don’t enjoy feeling like a freeloader.”

“Well, you shouldn’t feel like one.”

You were startled by the voice, turning to find the Professor himself entering your bedroom with Storm by his side.

“Sorry I didn’t knock, but the door was open.” He beamed, placing his hands in his lap.

“Its okay, Professor,” Kitty responded, moving away from your dresser to stand beside Jean. “Jean and I were going to head out, anyway.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Jean waved before following Kitty out of your suite.

“Goodnight,” you called after them, still mindful of the sleeping baby next door, before giving your full attention to the man and woman before you. “Jean said you wished to speak with me?”

“Yes.” Charles cleared his throat, his expression turning stern. “I wanted to see how you are…after the day’s events.”

You let out a staggered breath, moving your arms to hug yourself, “I was in the ballroom when you brought him there, and I thought I could face him. But when he looked at me again, without any familiarity in his gaze, I couldn’t…”

Charles raised a hand to stop you, understanding that it was painful for you to talk about. Ororo was quick to your side, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“He asked about you,” Charles stated, causing you to raise your head in shock. “He could’ve asked me anything, but the first thing, in the forefront of his mind, was the need to know who you were. I think a small part of him still—I don’t know how to put it—understands that you are someone significant to him.”

Your eyes watered at the news, but you refused to cry.

“Does he know…?”

“I didn’t tell him, and I don’t believe anyone else feels it is their place to,” Charles sighed, averting his gaze. “I came here to give you some hope, Y/N. Things may look bleak, but I implore you to spend some time with him. Don’t avoid him.”

“It’s agonizing, Professor,” you whispered, wincing as you remembered the confused stare Logan had given you earlier in the evening; it was not unlike the gaze he greeted you with when he had opened his eyes briefly days before.

This time, Ororo spoke up, “We cannot imagine the suffering that you are going through, Y/N, but you must realize that this isn’t easy for him either. He is living in a house full of strangers, in a present that he doesn’t recall living towards.”

Her words held truth; you comprehended that, but you needed time.

“I promise I will talk to him…eventually.”

“That’s all we needed to hear.” A grin broke the strict lines of Charles’ expression.

You returned the gesture, though yours was a bit strained. “Thank you, Charles.”

“Please, Y/N, you are a dear friend of mine, and I want you to know that—and I think I speak for all the people residing in this mansion—we are here for you, to help you when you need it.”

You gave him a nod, anxious that your voice would fail you if you tried to speak.

“Get some sleep, my dear,” Ororo commanded, squeezing your arm fondly before walking over to Charles.

“Yes,” the Professor agreed, spinning his chair towards the door. “Sleep well.”

“You, too,” you responded, bowing your head slightly and hoping that their good wishes would be granted. D/N was not the only reason you woke to bags underneath your eyes.


	3. Her Choice and the Daffodil Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, the stand alone sentences in italics are thoughts, and this chapter takes place before Chapter 2. So when Professor Xavier goes to see Y/N, he actually just came from seeing Logan. What transpires in this chapter is what happened while he was with Logan.
> 
> Also, sorry for the wait! This past week was finals week at my college, as well as time for me to move out of my dorm. It was a stressful week, to say the least, but it's done. I'm home. I can focus on things that I like! 
> 
> So I will be posting more regularly now.

**_Earlier that Day…_ **

“…and this is your room.”

The door to the suite slid open, and Charles removed his hand from the biopad.

Logan looked about the sitting room, not daring to enter until the Professor had wheeled himself in front of him. His blue eyes scanned the space. It was untouched, not lived in. The dull furniture had some wear to it, but the hardwood did not contain a single dent or chip in its glaze; to his left was a spotless kitchen, its quartz counters bare.

In some ways, he related to the condition of the suite too much.

“We had it cleaned for you. It got a little dusty in your absence,” Charles stated, turning his chair around to face Logan. “The fridge is stocked with your favorites, and all the towels and linens have been washed.”

“What about my clothes?”

“We had them go through the laundry, too,” Charles replied, leading Logan towards the back of a long hallway.

As he followed Charles, Logan noticed a closed door to his left, and it caused him to pause and inquire, “What’s in this room?”

“…that was a spare room of yours. It’s mostly empty except for a few boxes.”

The Professor wasn’t lying; when Logan cracked the door open and peaked inside, he saw yellow-painted walls containing russet cardboard within them. Nothing special, but he would be looking through the boxes’ contents at some point, maybe after Charles left him alone.

He then moved onto the room at the end of the hall, where Charles was waiting for him.

This space was no different from the living area—holding no trace of life. The bed was made as if it were in a military barracks, the comforter and pillows having been handled with a perfectionist’s touch. Besides the bed, there was a dresser, lacking any memorabilia on its wooden surface, and double doors that—Logan assumed—concealed a closet that was organized in a similar fashion as the rest of the bedroom.

Towels were folded at the base of the queen mattress in a stack that included two big ones, a hand towel, and a washcloth. At the top of the pyramid was an unopened box of soap.

It was like staying at a hotel.

“Is this really all that I owned?”

“Yes,” Charles answered a bit too quick for Wolverine’s liking. “You weren’t much of a homebody, and you rarely spent time here, except to sleep.”

“Then where did I spend time?”

The Professor leaned back in his wheelchair, his brown orbs wide as he shrugged his shoulders at the beige carpet, “You liked to train or disappear for a while on your motorbike.”

Logan could imagine why. From the looks of it, home didn’t offer much.

Another thing also occurred to him. He turned to look at his companion, “Did I have a job?”

“You _do_ have a job. Here, actually. You’re a teacher at the school.”

That would make sense, considering most of the students earlier had spoke of memories that usually involved being trained under him, but all their powers were so unique, spanning the spectrum of mutant abilities fully from mental to physical talents.

“What subject?” He sniffed, using his one hand to swipe across the tip of his nose and placing the other on his belt.

“Defense, mostly.” Charles moved closer to him, placing a hand on the hero’s arm. “You’ve also inspired many with issues similar to the ones you had.”

Logan felt the corners of his mouth turn up at his words.

“Did I train Y/N?”

He didn’t know why he even vocalized the question. Sure, he had been curious about her since he first saw her, and even more so after he asked about her. Charles had acted so strange at the time, and even Scott had tensed behind him, as if he had been waiting for Logan to inquire about her.

“Yes,” Charles answered rather easily, surprising Logan a bit. Earlier, Y/N seemed to be a topic that the Professor hadn’t been expecting to come up, but, now, he carried himself calmly. “She trained under you for a short while, but her powers required more time with me. She has an intriguing mutation, but it manifests mentally.”

“Oh…” Logan sat at the foot of his bed, leaning forward to rest his arms on his legs. “Did I know her well?”

“I would say so.”

“What does that mean?” Logan frowned. He couldn’t understand why everyone seemed to be giving him calculated answers that danced around affirmation. Why couldn’t he get a straight up “yes” or “no”?

Charles let out a breath. “Logan, I do not feel comfortable talking so deeply about a woman you barely know.”

“But I _did_ know her. You said so yourself.”

“And she knew you,” Charles pointed out, placing his hands on the arms of his seat. “You aren’t a stranger to her, so why don’t you talk to her? She is probably the most viable source when it comes to herself.”

Logan went quiet, knowing that the Professor was preaching logic, but the thought of approaching Y/N left an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. However, he knew he would have to encounter her sooner or later, especially when he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He needed to find out why.

“Where can I find her?”

“She lives here, but I am afraid you cannot visit her at the moment.” Charles shifted his gaze, and Logan was now positive that he was hiding something. “She is sorting through some personal issues, and it would be best not to disturb her.”

“But she was out and about earlier.”

“Her choice. You are important to her, but right now it is best that you don’t seek her out.”

“But—”

“Logan.” The Professor scowled, saying his name like a parent would when scolding his child. “Enough. There are some things I cannot answer, and there are some questions that I must not answer. You are not rea—”

Logan narrowed his eyes, growling through his teeth as he got to his feet, “What are you not telling me, Xavier? All day, the feeling’s been gnawing on me like a teething baby. There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

If Wolverine didn’t have control, if he wasn’t the mature mutant he was, and if Charles wasn’t a friend, he would’ve stained the carpet red because what Charles said next caused the animal in him to claw at him, trying to dig its way to the surface.

“It is not my place, Logan. I’m sorry.”

“Not your place?” he asked, his jaw squared. “What about _my_ place? Don’t I deserve to know my past? Don’t I deserve to know who I am?”

“I didn’t say you didn’t…”

“But you’re keeping things from me!”

“Logan, you must calm down!” Charles shouted, yet still managed to seem very in control of his temper, a stark contrast to the mutant before him.

“I’m calm,” Logan hissed, beginning to pace the room because he knew his jeans would be practically incinerated from the lie he just told. “I’m calm…”

The space fell into tense silence as it seemed to confine the angered animal inside it, imprisoning it with the very thoughts that sent him on his fury.

“I must go, my friend,” Charles spoke up, sensing a decrease in the negative energy Logan was emitting. “I will leave you to settle in…and I will also let you know when Y/N will see you.”

Logan paused, hanging his head and bringing up a hand to the bridge of his nose. “Thanks…” He pinched the skin and cartilage between his calloused fingers. “How long until I can ride my bike?”

The Professor let out a light chuckle, which softened his companion’s demeanor. “That eager to leave already?”

_You have no idea._

_Actually, Logan, I do._

“Professor…” Logan rasped, sending a glare over his shoulder.

“Sorry. I could not help myself,” Charles grinned sheepishly before entering the hall and leaving Logan’s sight.

Once he heard the door to his suite close, Logan walked from his bedroom to the spare room next to it, his hands itching to get into those boxes. He was almost certain they contained something that would spark a memory within him.

He threw the door open, taking notice of the yellow walls for the second time. It was strange, the color. It differed from everything his suite was. The other rooms were painted in subdued hues with nothing popping or meant to catch the eye while these walls were as bright as the sun at noon on a cloudless day.

Did he choose this paint? He couldn’t picture himself doing it. It was so unlike him.

He also observed the carpet, which seemed brand new and was like walking on sponge cake. The flooring absorbed each step he took, and when he got to his knees, pressing his hand on the ground, the carpet held his print for a moment. It wasn’t foam, but it was close.

_If this was an extra space, why was it sticking out like a sore thumb?_

He got to his feet, his eyes moving to the double doors that, he assumed, held a closet behind them. He opened them and peered inside to find his suspicions confirmed.

Two, metal cans, one labeled “white” and the other labeled “daffodil” sat at the back of the small area. Both were previously opened, as evident by the dried paint on the sides. There was also a rolling brush and tray, clean but used.

This room had received its color recently. 

_But why this tone?_

Logan didn’t peg himself as a “daffodil” kind of guy. He also didn’t care if his “spare room” was lime green or bubblegum pink. He would’ve left it in whatever state it was when he got it, especially if its use was limited to storage.

He looked over at the stack of brown, his attention now moving from the peculiar décor to what he originally came here for.

He knelt down, grabbing the closest cube. He unsheathed his left claws, and, without thinking much about it, ripped through the cardboard to reveal what was inside.

What he found there certainly wasn’t what he was expecting.


	4. His Baby Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to your POV! And for those of you that are a bit confused, the beginning is both a dream and a memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for my disappearance. I think this will be the one and only fiction I will post on here with this account. I do have another account, which will mostly be dedicated to my OCs. If you're interested, let me know! But I do have every intention of finishing this story.

 

You were in the middle of changing D/N’s explosion of a diaper when Charles’ voice came through your head, disturbing the peaceful silence you now cherished; there wasn’t much of it after having a baby.

_Logan seems to be waking up._

You paused after placing securing the Velcro, your hand resting lightly over your child’s stomach.

_He’s what?_

_He’s opening his eyes! Come quick!_

He didn’t have to say it twice. It took you less than a minute to put D/N back into her bee-themed onesie and less than five for you to get to the hospital wing.

You saw him before you reached him, through the glass of the door that led to his temporary room. He was stirring, his movements slight but still more than the stillness he had been exhibiting up to this point. Hank was at his side, his hands in his lab coat pockets, and Charles sat in his wheelchair next to him, his gaze focused on the man in the bed before him.

You adjusted D/N in your arms, squatting to open the door and let yourself in. Your attempt at being quiet with your entrance did nothing as two pairs of eyes—neither of which belonging to the mutant you loved—shot to you, taking in your presence.

_That was fast._

You offered the Professor a slight smile, shaking your head as you slowly approached Logan. Charles had been right; he seemed to be coming to.

“How long has he been like this?” you whispered, your eyes falling to your lover.

“About fifteen minutes ago, I came in to change his IV, and as I was switching the bags, he murmured something,” Hank explained, shrugging his shoulders. “It was the first time he showed any signs of consciousness.”

You felt your spirits lift at Hank’s words, and you turned to look at Charles, holding out D/N, “Could you take her, Professor?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He grinned, taking the newborn from you with a firm yet gentle grip. “Hello there, D/N.”

After watching him with her for a moment, smiling at how adorable he was with your daughter, you walked around Logan’s bed to the other side of him. You took his large, warm hand between yours, lifting it slightly off the mattress.

“Logan?”

His expression changed, his nose wrinkling, and you caught his eyelids move. The reaction was so relieving, considering he did not show any response to the one-sided conversations you would have with him each day prior.

“Logan?” you tried again, stroking the soft skin on the back of his hand.

And then the blood in your vessels stopped; your heart halted when your E/C eyes met his deep blues. They were wide and doe-like, so contrary to the rough man that sported them; they regarded you, searching your face then trailing down your neck and chest to where his palm was sandwiched between yours.

Tears filled your eyes, as you waited for him to say something—anything.

His gaze roamed again, finding your face, and his features twisted into one of confusion. His chapped lips parted.

And, in that moment, you didn’t care what he said as long as you could hear his gravelly voice again.

“Who are you?”

Except that. He could’ve said anything except that.

* * *

You sat up in bed, a sob escaping you between short, uneven breaths.

 _It was a dream_ …

But it wasn’t at the same time.

You relaxed your hands, letting the blanket that had been clenched between your fingers go as you brought your dominant hand to your face.

“Logan…” you whimpered, wiping your damp cheeks with the ends of your sleeves as your shoulders shook with your sniffling.

When your breathing returned to normal, you placed your hands in your lap and studied the vibranium bracelet that hung from your left wrist. Three rings, crafted from the same material, hung from it, two being simple bands and the third containing your birth stone.

You played with the cool metal loops, trying to distract yourself from the fact your shirt didn’t smell like him anymore. Nothing of his did. You had made sure of that, but you kept this button-down to sleep in. It was like having his arms, his chest, and sometimes, when the plaid collar tickled your neck, you pretended it was him nuzzling you with his nose; he would wake you up most mornings, tickling you like that.

A sigh escaped your lips as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, bringing yourself to your feet. You held the fabric of his shirt close to your body, ignoring the way the cold bit at your exposed thighs as you exited the room and entered D/N’s.

For once, she was sleeping peacefully, and though you longed for her to open up her baby blues, to greet you with her father’s eyes, you didn’t dare disturb her slumber. Instead, you watched her from the threshold, your hand absentmindedly playing with the locket that hung low between your breasts. You focused on the way her tiny chest rose and fell with her steady breathing. You admired her caterpillar fingers and the way they curled into small fists, and you smiled at the little wisps of dark brown hair that were starting to populate the top of her round head.

The serenity of the moment ended when her expression tensed and a wail emitted from her plump lips.

You hastened over to her, bringing her up into your arms and rocking her gently as you gave her your locket to hold.

She hushed instantly, and, while, you were hoping for a distraction, your mind went right back to your husband the minute her eyelids separated, looking from the heart between her digits to you.


	5. Professor Howlett and Y/N’s Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan's POV! Also, important to note that "C/S" means "your cup size".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter right before Thanksgiving for us in the States! Hope you all enjoy it!

Logan groaned at the sound of the alarm clock as it filled the room. He let the damn thing ring for a bit before deciding he had had enough, reaching his arm out from underneath the comforter and slamming his palm down on the snooze button.

With the silence of the early morning restored, he rolled over onto his back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before opening them.

It was finally his first day of work, after two long weeks of Hank and Charles watching him like a hawk. Neither of them thought it would be right for him to just return to the life he had led before the accident, not until they made sure he was not exhibiting any symptoms of trauma. At first, they wanted a month to pass before he began his normal routine, but Logan wore them down to half of that, stating that he wouldn’t leave the mansion’s grounds until they gave their okay.

That seemed to pacify them, and it disappointed Logan, considering they believed he would keep his word. In his mind, he could leave whenever he damn well pleased, and he had every right to take his bike with him.

The alarm resumed again, breaking Logan’s peace, and this time, he got out of bed and shut it off. He then walked over to the dresser, reaching his hand in the top drawer and grabbing the first pair of briefs and socks he could find.

He then walked over to the closet, opening the double doors and stepping inside. He switched on the light, placing his fists on his sides as his blue eyes scanned the closet.

Despite his love for wife-beaters and jeans, Logan thought he should wear something a little more presentable, considering today was his first day of teaching and no actual training would be happening. The whole point of the first class, according to Charles, was to explain the curriculum. It wasn’t really Logan’s style. He much rather show the kids how the class is going to be run than lecture them about it, but this wasn’t his school…

He pulled a white-button down off one of the hangers, cursing as it fell to the floor, its white fabric covering a few shoes.

Logan bent down to retrieve the shirt when his eyes got caught on something…F/C?

Dark brows furrowed, he reached to the back of the closet and picked up the offending item to find himself in an even more curious situation.

It was a bra, size C/S to be precise.

What was it doing in _his_ closet?

_Good Morning, Logan._

He winced at the unexpected voice that filtered through his head.

_Jesus, Xavier._

_I apologize, but Scott and I are waiting for you in conference room 1B. Don’t worry about breakfast._

_Yeah. I’ll be there in a sec._

He looked down at the piece of lingerie, wondering who it could belong to. No one had mentioned him having a girlfriend or something, so maybe it was from a one-night thing? He had no clue, to be quite honest, and a small part of him was kind of fed up with searching for his own answers. Within the fourteen days since he had awoken, Y/N had not gone out of her way to seek him out, and Charles had yet to inform him of her status.

And the mansion itself held nothing of his time in it, either.

The boxes in the daffodil room? They just contained some of his ancient possessions from the world wars and late eighteen hundreds. These items held some sentimental value; however, they contained stories he already knew.

But Logan hadn’t given up _completely_. He felt that, as long as he was patient enough, his memories would return to him.

* * *

“So I don’t know what the other kids at this school have told you about me…”

The room went silent at the gruff man’s statement. Even clad in a dress shirt and pants, Logan still gave off waves of danger, and it was punctuated with the firm and final click the door to the classroom had made behind him.

He let go of the knob, his right hand going to fiddle with the button on his left cuff, as he walked towards the desk.

“…but I don’t play games,” Logan finished, unleashing the blades out of his right fist and causing nearly everyone in the room to jump out of their desks. He let out a low chuckle, his piercing eyes sweeping across the room, taking in the bewilderment and slight fear that expressed itself on his students’ faces.

He could almost smell it.

As quickly as they came out, Logan’s claws retreated into his skin, and he leaned back against the desk, resting his palms on the edge.

“Normally, I would’ve started you in the simulation room today,” he continued, looking out the window, “but the higher ups suggested I take this approach.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, “Over the course of this semester, I will be training you in basic physical defense. The moves I teach you are only meant to _defend_. The moves I use against you, of which you will have to protect yourself against, are not meant to be learned in this class. You are not to use _any_ of the positions and actions that are shown to you against your peers or any civilians.”

He fixed the inhabitants of the room with a stern stare, “Survival is two parts. Defense and offense. I will teach you the first half, and I will help you master it by the end of this semester. Offense will be taught to you in a different class when you’re mature enough for it.”

“Now, can anyone tell me which of the two are more important: defense or offense?”

A boy in the back raised his hand.

Logan nodded at him, “What’s your name, Kid?”

“Sal.”

 “Alright, Sal,” Logan gave him a toothy grin. “Tell me what you think. Offense or defense?”

“Offense.”

“Wrong.”

Sal looked utterly confused, “But isn’t that how you win?”

“Not everything in life is about winning or losing.” Logan lifted himself up onto the desk, letting his legs hang over the front of it. “That’s why you’re taking this class. The lessons given to you in this course aren’t just physical. Think about the reason you are all here. Why? Someone tell me?”

A girl with purple hair hesitantly lifted her palm in the air.

“Yes, Kid?”

“To control our mutant abilities?”

"Exactly. Control. It’s something we all have to learn.” He bowed his head, “Even me, but let’s get back to winning and losing. Sal said attacking is required to win, and I am not surprised he thought that. Many of you probably do, and Lord knows I thought the same at one point.”

Logan looked back at the crowd of naive mutants, realizing he had his work cut out for him, but at the same time, he was okay with that. He liked a challenge.

“You all always have something to protect. Your Beliefs. Family. Friends. Your peers. Sometimes, even your professor.” He smirked, scratching the side of his face. “Even when you’re alone, you have someone to preserve: yourself.”

“Understanding that is the first goal of this class,” Logan got off of his desk, turning to look outside once again, his expression faltering as his vision was filled with H/C locks and a bright smile, sitting among the green and sky.

He forced his attention back to his students, deciding he would end this quick, “So, I want you all to think about what you want to defend because it’s only when you successfully protect what is important to you that you, as Sal put it, win.”

After he dismissed the class early, Logan found himself fast-walking down the halls, a purpose in each of his steps as he looked for an exit point.

He had to get outside.

“What’s the rush, Wolverine?”

Logan nearly crashed into the blue mutant who had suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Kurt! What did I tell you about…?”

“Apologies. Apologies.” He waved off Logan’s anger like it was a cloud of smoke. “Bobby, Alex, Scott and I were wondering if you would like to join our team for a little bit of soccer. It’s boys versus girls.”

“Who’s on the other team?”

“Kitty, Rogue, Tabitha, and Jean.”

“Mutant abilities allowed?”

“Is there really any other way?” Kurt winked at him, throwing the soccer ball.

Logan caught it between his digits and looked up at the mutant, a grin tugging at the edge of his lips. “True, Kid. True.”

* * *

“You are _so_ off your game today, Summers!” Jean shouted after stealing the ball from Scott and trying for a goal.

Lucky for the guys’ team, Kurt was an amazing goalie.

“Nice try, Jean Grey,” he teased before throwing the black and white orb back into play. “Scott! Get your ass into the game.”

“Jesus Christ,” Logan chuckled at the mutant’s misuse of the saying.

“It’s ‘head in the game,’ Kurt!” Kitty giggled, allowing Alex to kick the ball passed her and into the goal.

“Yeah, Alex!” Bobby yelled, jumping into the air. “Now we’re tied.”

“No fair.” Kitty pouted picking up the sphere from the back of the net. “Boys are naturally stronger than girls, so biologically you already have the upper hand!”

“Oh, _please_.” Scott rolled his eyes, resting his elbow on Logan’s shoulder, causing the shorter man to brush it off. “How can we make this easier for you? Before this goal, you were winning.”

“Let us get another player,” Tabitha suggested, placing a hand on her hip. “It would be a better match, and even _more_ of a victory if you win.”

“Alright, but you guys can’t choose Ellie.”

“Fine…” Kitty groaned, Ellie having been her first choice. They would’ve mopped the floor with Negasonic Teenage Warhead on their side.

“How about…” Rogue placed a finger on her chin, scanning the expanse of the grounds. Her eyes fell on a certain H/C woman, who was currently sitting on a picnic blanket, playing with her daughter. “Y/N?”

“What? Now, you _know_ that’s not fair!” Scott exclaimed, pointing a finger at Rogue.

She crossed her arms over her chest, glancing at Logan with a smirk that he didn’t miss.

It was obvious she was bringing Y/N into the game because of him, but he had no idea as to why. Sure, he was dying for the chance to talk to her, and he planned on doing it the moment this silly competition ended. He just didn’t see what Y/N would add to the girls’ edge; her power was all mental, wasn’t it?

“Hey, Y/N!” Tabitha called over to her, and she raised her head, her attention, for the first time, left the baby lying next to her. “Do you wanna play?”

Y/N gave the group a small smile, “Sure.”

She turned to look at Piotr, who was sitting next to her, his face buried in a book. She asked him a question, to which he responded with a nod. She then got to her feet, grouping the locks of her hair back into her hand to secure them with a rubber band she kept around her wrist.

Logan watched as she made their way over to them, her focus completely on her steps until she reached the playing field.

She placed her palms on her hips, looking from the girls to the boys, “Powers?”

“Is there _really_ any other way to play the game?” Kurt asked from his goal.

Y/N’s gaze fell to him, a brilliant curve on her pink lips. “True, Kurt.”

“Alright,” Scott sighed, throwing his arms into the air. “Go easy on Y/N. Remember, she gave birth just recently.”

“Aw, Scott.” Y/N stuck out her bottom lip. “You shouldn’t tell them that. Then, I’ll kick your asses for sure.”

Logan would’ve snickered at her trash talk, but he was too caught up on what Scott had just said. He had thought the child she had been watching was a friend’s…not _hers_.

He glanced over at Piotr, who had the tiny tot in his arms, making faces at her and tickling her belly.

 _Was_ he _the father?_


	6. He Would and She Wished She Could

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After surviving an accident, Logan wakes with no recollection of his time with the X-Men. He has forgotten most of the people he came to love, and the woman who came to love him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost a month, but here's another installment. I'm on break, now, and the last month has been busy. I hope my break will be less busy, but having two jobs and trying to take care of yourself make that a bit tough. Regardless, I'll be posting more regularly!
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely comments, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

It was the day after you joined the soccer game—having your first interaction with Logan since he woke for the second time—that Charles sent Ororo to your suite.

“What does he want to talk about?” you questioned, placing folded onesies and socks into your daughter’s dresser. The task, usually nominal, was becoming difficult with your hands slightly shaking and your sudden need to finish it.

“I assume it would have something to do with Logan or your powers,” she replied, watching as D/N took her pointer finger in her tiny palms. “Or both.”

You froze, bent over the laundry basket.

_He wouldn’t…_

But the moment you stepped through the double doors of his office, your eyes meeting his calculating gaze, you realized…

_He would._

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” he greeted you with a little smile, folding his hands under his jaw. “I took the liberty of making some tea, so won’t you join us?”

“Us?” you asked as you took hesitant steps towards the chair, across the table from where he sat.

“Scott will be joining us momentarily.”

The seat you pulled out screeched against the hardwood floor, and you cursed before apologizing to Charles.

“It’s fine.” He waved it off before leaning over the mahogany surface between you to reach for the tea pot. “Tea?”

“Please.”

Maybe the warmth of it would calm you because if Charles called you here for what you suspected, this conversation wouldn’t be an easy one.

Just as the Professor had finished pouring your drink, Scott ran in completely out of breath.

 “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s nothing to worry over.” Charles shrugged, sparing a glance at him. “Would you care for some tea, too?”

“Uh…no thanks.” He walked behind you to take the chair next to yours. “I’m not much of a tea-guy.”

“Suit yourself.” Charles lifted the creamer and looked to you, his dark brows raised, “Cream?”

“Sure.” You nodded, shaking your leg as you turned to Scott. “So what have you been up to?”

“Playing soccer.”

“Why the sudden interest?” You grinned, already knowing his answer.

“Well, after our _crippling_ defeat yesterday, Kurt has the group of us practicing.” He chuckled, giving you a fake glare. “It’s all your fault, you know.”

“I told you I would kick your asses.”

 “It wasn’t fair at all, though!” he exclaimed. “We had to go easy on you because you’re still healing, and Logan’s skill seemed to vanish once you entered the game.”

You remained silent upon hearing that. If the two of you were strangers, why did your presence stifle him?

Charles took the break in conversation to begin his own, “Speaking of Logan, I called you both here to talk about him.”

_Here we go…_

You sat up straight, your fingers already dancing across the side of your teacup for comfort. 

“Logan is getting impatient,” he began, fixing himself some of the hot beverage. “I told you, Y/N, a couple of weeks ago, that he was asking about you, but I did not go into detail as far as what he was asking…”

Your eyes fell to the dark liquid before you, both of your hands completely wrapped around the ceramic.

“What did he ask?”

“We had been talking about his job here at the school, and he had asked if he trained you.” The Professor paused as he saw a smile tug at your lips, but it was short lived.

You hung your head, trying to suppress the bitter sweet memories. “What else?”

“He also asked how well he knew you, and I didn’t know what to say, Y/N. All I _could_ say was that I thought he did, but it’s becoming harder and harder to keep him from coming to you. That day, I told him to talk to you.”

Your head shot up, your E/C gaze meeting Charles’ firm stare. “Why would you say that? I thought I was going to talk to him on _my_ terms.”

“I quickly corrected myself, telling him that he couldn’t see you at that time. Do you know how angry he got with me? He thinks that everything could be solved after a conversation with you, and you and I both know he’s right.”

“Yesterday, after the game,” Scott interjected, his tone a bit more controlled than Charles’, “he asked about D/N. He also was curious about who her father was.”

“And what did you say?” You kept your voice even, despite how badly you wanted to scream and shout at the insensitive men before you.

“That he was currently MIA.”

“The point is,” Charles brought your attention back to him, “we can’t keep doing this, Y/N. Eventually, something is going to slip. I think it would be best, considering all our progress with your abilities, that you attempt to restore his memories.”

“Are you _insane_ , Professor?” You seethed, getting to your feet and ignoring the repeated shriek the wooden legs had against the floor. “Do you not understand that _my husband_ and the _father of my child_ doesn’t remember a thing about me? He holds no memories for me to manipulate, and, frankly, I don’t know if I’m ready to talk to him. When we were playing together yesterday, it was so painful to know that I couldn’t show any affection towards him, any inkling that our relationship had been more.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t just tell him,” Scott said the moment he saw he could, but you silenced him with a threatening look.

“ _Because_ , Summers, he doesn’t love me. He has no recollection of _loving_ me. Forcing that responsibility upon him, forcing a wife and a child upon him, is not what he needs right now.”

“Then what does he need? To be in a state of confusion? To not understand who he was or is?”

You looked away from Scott, the astonishment laced in his words stung you because, of course, Logan didn’t deserve any of the things he was currently going through.

“I think we’re missing something important,” Charles spoke up calmly, making eye-contact with you. “You only mentioned manipulating what he remembers, but you hold the memories of everyone you touch. I know you can give him his memory back; you have a copy of it.”

You hugged yourself, your palms finding your upper arms. “I can’t do that.”

“You _won’t_ do that?”

“No.” You furrowed your brows. “I _can’t_ do that.”

* * *

The next morning, you got up after another restless night.

You dressed yourself, not taking too much care in your choice of outfit because it was a weekend, and class wasn’t in session. You decided that a pair of jeans and a regular t-shirt would do, so you hurriedly put them on, checking the alarm clock next to your bed as you slipped on some flip-flops.

You then went to D/N’s room. She was awake, and she reached out her itty-bitty arms, kicking her legs as you leaned over the side of the white crib and lifted her from the daffodil bedding.

“Good morning, my love,” you cooed, pressing a kiss to her forehead and smiling until you got a whiff of something absolutely putrid. You immediately recoiled as she let out a gurgle.

You winced. “You need a diaper change…”

After she was cleaned and put into a different onesie for the day, you pulled down the collar of your blouse and pushed aside your satin bra, allowing her to feed.

Once she was sated, you placed her in her baby carrier and fixed yourself before leaving your suite and locking it behind you.

* * *

“She’s doing quite well for her age,” Hank remarked as he watched D/N play with her hands. His navy eyes found yours, his brows furrowed. “You said she rejected the pacifier?”

 “Spit it right out.” You sighed, a frown drawing on your features. It worried you because, supposedly, a pacifier could reduce the chances of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.

“Hmm…” He scratched his beard, his attention going back to D/N. “She hasn’t shown any signs of mutation, has she?”

“No.” You shook your head.

“Well, the likelihood of her having the X-gene is high. Though, I can’t begin to guess how the gene will phenotypically express itself.”

“Would it be like mine or Logan’s?”

He shrugged, his gaze finding yours. “There is a chance, but, again, it’s not easily predictable. I wouldn’t worry about it right now, but if she does start exhibiting odd behavior, I want you to contact me immediately.”

You gave him a curt nod before he turned from you and walked towards the counter. He opened up the vanilla folder that rested on the grey surface, picked up his pen and wrote some things down. “Has she been sleeping through the night?”

“Not yet…”

“Well, she’s still young. I was just curious, considering she started to pick up her head at three weeks…Developmentally, though, her weight and growth are completely normal for five weeks.”

“That’s good to hear.” You leaned over the carrier, adjusting the blanket D/N had managed to kick from her feet.

 “How are you feeling?”

You let out a sigh, “I think I’m fine. Work and D/N have been keeping me busy…”

“That’s good. You are you getting enough sleep?”

“No. I’ve been having trouble with that.”

“Falling asleep or staying asleep?” he inquired, pausing in his writing and glancing at you over his shoulder.

“It depends…”

“Is D/N the one to wake you?”

“Not always. No. Sometimes the past resurfaces in my dreams, and I…” You stopped yourself, biting your bottom lip. “It’s hard.”

Hank moved from the cabinets that lined the front wall of the room, placing a hand on your shoulder as he looked down at you. “If you ever need to talk, I am willing to lend an ear.”

“I know.” A smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, Hank.”

“It’s no trouble.” He grinned. “So…we’ll meet here again next week, same time, for your six-week checkup?”

You nodded.

“And you can bring this little one with you.” He looked over at D/N, who regarded him with her blue eyes. You knew she couldn’t see him at that distance, but she could hear him. It was cute to think she understood.

“Alright, Hank.” You got off of the examination table, the paper below you crinkling as you moved, before gripping the plastic handle of the car seat you used to carry D/N. “Thanks for everything.”

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N, really. I love seeing you and D/N,” he said, placing his hands in his lab coat pockets.

You offered him a sincere grin before opening the door and coming face to face with Logan.

His mouth was agape, as if he had been about to say something, but his jaw clenched shut as he took in your presence with a blank expression.

“Logan?” Hank called from behind you, his voice an octave higher. “What are you doing here? Your appointment isn’t until an hour from now.”

“Charles said I should go now,” he answered dryly, his eyes not leaving your form.

_Charles…I could kill you._

_But you won’t._

You gritted your teeth at his retort, realizing that it held truth. You could never _kill_ anyone, but in that moment, you wished you could. Be it Charles or yourself.


	7. An Overactive Imagination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are back to Logan's POV, and there is a bit in here (it's all in italics) that marks a dream, just so you guys know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a month, and I do apologize. December and January have been very busy between school, work, and family issues. I also haven't been feeling very well, so finding the motivation to do anything has been pretty hard. Here's Chapter 7. I hope you enjoy it!

“Can I carry the kid for you?”

It had to be the stupidest question he ever thought up, and for a moment, Logan wondered if he was a schoolboy again. He was never good at wording things; he knew that, but he liked to thing he had grown better at talking to women.

 _Can I carry the kid for you?_ Even hours later, the question, in his gruff voice, would echo in his mind, a constant reminder on how he could have handled the situation better. His first words to Y/N would definitely _not_ be the ones he chosen. But there was one thing he did not regret about saying that, despite how silly he knew he sounded, and it was the laughter that escaped the firm line of her lips in an unintentional burst.

He watched, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as her E/C eyes widened, and she brought her free hand to the lower half of her face, attempting to suppress the fit of giggles that was emitting from her. Within moments, she was calm again, but her stoic expression had melted away to something gentler. Her features were softer now, and her lips curved slightly as she finally answered his ridiculous question, “Thanks for the offer, Logan, but didn’t you come here to see Hank?”

Now he felt like even more of an idiot.

“Yeah…” He averted his gaze, his palms finding his sides only for one of them to be moved to run his fingers through his messy, black hair. “Sorry I asked. I…I wasn’t really thinking.”

She let out an amused hum that could almost be mistaken for a chuckle, “You don’t need to be sorry. I appreciate the offer.”

“’s no problem…”

She moved both her hands to hold the handle of the plastic carrier, and for the first time, Logan got a good look at the baby in it.

Slowly, he squatted down and grinned at her. “Hey, Bub.”

The little girl stopped in her fidgeting, her hand frozen on her tiny foot as her blue orbs moved to the source of the sound.

“What’s her name?” Logan asked, his gaze finding Y/N’s as he rested his elbows on his upper thighs.

He noticed the sudden drop of her smile, her lips returning to a stern line. “D/N.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” he replied, his attention returning to the little girl. “She’s beautiful.”

To his utter surprise, D/N’s petite lips separated, curving up and causing her chubby cheeks to become more prominent. It was the most adorable thing Logan had ever witnessed, and he angled his head to look up at D/N’s mother to make sure she was seeing it, too.

Y/N’s mouth was agape, her focus trained on the smiling baby.

“What’s wrong?” Logan asked, coming to stand, his dark brows furrowing in concern.

“That…that was her first _real_ smile,” he heard her utter incredulously, and Logan really didn’t know how to respond.

“Is that normal?” he found himself asking and mentally slapping himself for ruining the moment.

“It’s a bit early, but it’s not a bad thing” She offered him an assuring grin. “You better not keep Hank waiting. He has a busy day, and Charles probably sent you here before your appointment because of it.”

Logan gave her a short nod, glancing at D/N, who was now preoccupied with the white, fuzzy blanket that covered her. “Yeah…”

Y/N walked passed him, and, although Logan felt inclined to stop her, to draw out the conversation he had been waiting for two weeks to happen, he let her go.

“We can talk later, if you want.”

It took a moment for her suggestion to register in his mind, but when it did, he spun around to stare at her. “We can?”

“Yes.” She breathed, her entire body relaxing with the word as she paused in the hall. “I’ll come find you.”

“Sounds good to me.”

And it did. In fact, it sounded wonderful to him.

* * *

_“I wonder what she’s like.”_

_“What who’s like?” Logan asked, lowering the cup of coffee from his lips and scanning through the comics section of the newspaper._

_“The new girl,” Jean replied as she got up from the break room table and made her way to the sink, her dirty plate in her hand._

_“Probably no different from the rest,” Logan grumbled. He placed the ceramic mug in the sink, earning an annoyed glare from the red-head, and folded up the paper._

_“You always say that.”_

_Logan looked to Scott, his eyebrows raised. “Am I ever wrong?”_

_“You were wrong about us,” Scott pointed out, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet._

_“No. You’re just too persistent for your own good,” Logan stated with a fond grin before he began to walk out of the small space. He held the door open for the two mutants. “We better get going. Professor said one o’clock.”_

_The three made their way down the corridor to the grand foyer, where every new housemate was welcomed on their first day, and when they entered the spacious room, students and teachers were already gathering, eager to meet the new addition to the X-Men family._

_Logan entered and stayed on the sidelines while his two companions made their ways to the front of the gathering crowd. He crossed his arms over his chest, watching the people in the room interact, which was what he often opted to do rather than actually joining them._

_“Charles will be here any minute.”_

_The voice didn’t startle Logan; he heard Hank from down the hall, and he turned slightly to glance at him. “They’ll be quieting down.”_

_“Yes,” the blue-furred man agreed, looking from Logan to the horde of mutants. “They always do.”_

_As if right on cue, the loud conversations that were occurring quieted to hushed whispers, and the doors to the mansion opened. Ororo, dressed in a black dress-suit, entered first, followed by Charles, who paused on the front walk and stretched his neck behind him. “Come along, now. There’s no need to feel shy.”_

_Logan’s eyes narrowed as Charles entered the house with a young woman at his side. She looked to be in her late teens or early twenties, and she sported a pair of dark-wash jeans and a monochrome sweatshirt that nearly reached her knees. Her H/C was down and wind-swept, and she hugged her arms close to her, hands swallowed in the fabric of her sleeves. Her large, E/C eyes swept across the many faces that came to welcome her, and one corner of her mouth lifted._

_“Everyone,” the Professor spoke, looking from the crowd to the girl next to him, “this is Y/N L/N, and she will be staying with us from now on.”_

_With almost a practiced precision, the room erupted into greetings, and Jean was the first to walk up to the H/C woman, pulling her into her arms in a friendly welcome._

_“She seems like a nice girl,” Hank remarked from beside him. “Shall we?”_

_Logan let out a sigh but nodded his head, “Sure.”_

_The midnight-colored mutant led the way to the small break in the sea of people, where Y/N was now listening to Scott talk about the school._

_Charles spotted them before anyone else did and interrupted, “Ah! Logan. Hank. I’m so glad the two of you could make it.”_

_“We wouldn’t miss a new arrival,” Hank grinned, turning to look at Y/N and holding out a hand. “Hello. I’m Henry McCoy, but you can call me Hank.”_

_The girl hesitated for a moment before offering a timid smile and shaking his hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Y/N L/N.”_

_“The pleasure is all mine.”_

_Logan rolled his eyes, knowing that Hank was easily charmed by anyone who so much as said something polite, but he did follow the blue mutant over here. The least he could do was be civil._

_“I’m Logan,” he introduced himself, keeping one hand in his pocket and outstretching the other one for her to take._

_She seemed a bit more comfortable, immediately moving to return the gesture, as her E/C orbs found his. “It’s nice to meet you, Logan.”_

* * *

Wolverine’s lids separated, allowing his eyes to roll over to the digital clock on his nightstand. When he saw the time flashing back at him— _fucking two-sixteen in the morning_ —he sat up in bed and rubbed the slumber from his face. After that dream, he wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep. His mind was too busy, tussling with the very idea of Y/N coming to the mansion being a product of his overactive imagination. 


	8. Not Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After surviving an accident, Logan wakes with no recollection of his time with the X-Men. He has forgotten most of the people he came to love, and the woman who came to love him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am super excited to announce that I will be writing Marvel x Readers again! I'm feeling so inspired, and I have a lot of ideas. Mostly for Tony x Reader because I feel there aren't a lot of series for him, and if you know of any good ones, please let me know! I love Tony. I also have had an idea for a long time for an AU with Logan and the Reader. It's a lumberjack AU.
> 
> Anyways, I will be moving all my stuff from my Tumblr to Ao3. I won't be doing requests, but I will open for commissions (1 coffee on Ko-Fi gets you 1,000 words!). So I do have to set that up. 
> 
> Without further ado, here is the next chapter of ILM!

_Who are you?_

You woke with a start, your chest heaving in and expelling air out as you sat up straight in bed, your clammy hands gripping onto the cream-colored fabric of your bedspread. Realizing that it was simply your unconscious torturing you again, your labored breathing began to return to normal, and you buried your face into your palms, “Why?”

Using the sleeve of Logan’s button down, you wiped your tear-stricken cheeks before getting out of bed and adding a robe to your form. You walked over to your nightstand, picking up the baby monitor that rested on its dark brown surface. With the white device tucked under your arm, you exited your room and suite until you were in the main hall of the western wing.

You decided the best thing to do when you couldn’t sleep was to take a stroll about the building. You had tried it one night, finding that after two or three complete circulations of the mansion, you were ready to attempt going back to bed. Five times out of seven, you found yourself nodding off to a dreamless sleep, so the method was worth trying.

You were a quarter way through your first round when you realized you were by Logan’s suite—the space the two of you used to share. You slowed as you came to the double doors, recalling just how much of a hassle it was to completely eradicate any trace of your existence in the set of rooms.

First, you had to move all your stuff back to the area you had used when you arrived at the school. You could remember double, triple checking that all the items that remained were Logan’s. Then, you had to get all of D/N’s stuff out, which was probably the easiest part, considering most of it was contained to a single room, a room that you and Logan had converted from a storage space to a nursery when you were about six months pregnant.

The last step involved sterilizing…everything. The walls, ceiling, furniture, his clothes. All of it. There could not be a trace of your or D/N’s DNA. If there was, Logan would be able to sense it with his over perceptive nose. At first, the scent would be unfamiliar, but the moment he interacted with either you or D/N, he would be able to match the aroma. He would wonder why, and it would lead to a conversation you were too afraid to have.

That was when you thought of the promised chat.

Why did you offer to talk? Were you truly ready to? If Logan walked out of his room right now, would you be able to give him the answers he sought?

“Y/N?”

You froze, about two yards passed Logan’s door, and the low, tired voice was unmistakably his. Knowing you couldn’t just run away, you closed the opening to your robe, tucking the baby monitor under your arm, and turned to look at him, an amiable smile on your lips. “Hey, Logan. What are you doing up this early?”

He was silent for a moment before lifting an arm to run his fingers through his bed head, “…Just couldn’t sleep, and I thought I heard footsteps.”

You stared at him for a moment, barely able to make out the features of your husband in the dark of the hallway. He was clad in a grey t-shirt and sweatpants—ones that were familiar to you—and you realized he must have been awake for a bit at this point. Logan slept in the nude, and he only ever put on clothing when he realized he’d be up for a while.

Feeling a bit sorry for him, you decided to indulge him, “You know…whenever I wake up in the middle of the night, I find a few times around the mansion tires me out real fast. Why don’t you join me?”

You could just see the muscles of his face contort into an expression of surprise, his eyes wide and eyebrows high on his forehead while his jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Are you sure, Y/N? Charles said you were dealin’ with some personal stuff, and I…”

He trailed off when you nodded your head, beckoning him to come to your side. “It’s fine, Logan. I’m inviting you, and I did promise a talk.”

“Well, alright…” he said, heading over to you.

And just like that, you felt as if you were starting anew with him. Blood was pulsing through your body, your heart practically skipping at the fact the man you loved was now beside you. Feeling silly, you crossed your arms over your chest, careful to keep Logan’s shirt hidden from his view, and after a few moments of silence, you cleared your throat, “So…Charles mentioned you having some questions for me.”

You dared a glance at him, just catching him lifting his head to look back at you.

“Um, yeah…” He sniffed, rubbing the tip of his nose with a knuckle. “I’m just not too sure where to begin…”

You chuckled lightly, your eyes moving to what was in front of you. “Take your time. I’m yours for at least the next hour.”

 _I’m yours? Really, Y/N? That didn’t sound weird_ at all _._

“Well, I guess I should ask how you’re doin’. You gave birth recently, so…”

You looked at him, lips parted and brows arched; you did not expect him to ask that.

“I’m fine.” You grinned. “Just a bit tired. D/N can be a handful sometimes, but everyone here has been so helpful. I really couldn’t ask for more.”

_Just you. I would ask for you._

Logan licked his lips, his arms twisting in front of his torso. “If you ever need me to…y’know…help watch the kid or somethin’, tell me.” He turned his head towards you. “I’d be happy to help.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” you responded. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

And the conversation came to a stop, but the quiet of the night was soothing, in a sense. You felt nervous next to him, like you had when you first met him, but at the same time, you loved being near him again, talking to him again. You couldn’t let it end here.

“Charles told me that you asked if I had trained under you,” you started, and, almost immediately, Logan’s attention was on you, “and I just want to say that you were my favorite teacher. I know that probably sounds weird, a grown woman with a baby telling you that she enjoyed being your pupil, but I did.” You let out a shaky breath, the memories being a bit heavier on your heart than you had thought them to be. “You taught me everything I know, so when I…when they told us of their issues with contacting you during the experiment, I could hardly believe it. I was terrified, and I didn’t know when or if you would return…But you’re here now, and I’m happy that you’re alive and safe...back where you belong.”

Your E/C eyes rested on him at the end of your tale, and he was gazing back at you, his face unreadable, which was nothing new for him. You were used to his ability to conceal what he was thinking or feeling, but kissing him or holding him close would do nothing to unseal those lips, now. You couldn’t utilize your knack at getting him to open up.

“Y/N, I want to ask you something, but I’m not sure how…” He exhaled, his whole body relaxing only to tense again as he continued. “Since I woke up, I felt like everyone’s been keepin’ something from me. Something big.”

You swallowed, trying so very hard to cover up your anxious ticks. Logan’s mutation allowed him to sense fear, and, although you could never be afraid of him, you knew he could notice the alarm in the way your body was responding to his words. Your palms were clammy as you clutched onto the soft fabric of your robe, and you had to force yourself to move, to keep the same pace. You didn’t know what to do with your eyes, but having them dart back and forth in confusion was definitely not what you should be allowing them to do.

“I have to know, Y/N, what I was to you. Were we friends? Were we…?”

You wet your lips, pausing in the hallway and comforting yourself with the fact that your suite was a few doors down, “Logan…” Your E/C orbs locked with his, “you were, and still are, my best friend. That will never change.”

And then you were crying, hating yourself for it, too. You told yourself that you would never shed a tear in front of him because each little droplet held gallons of your complete adoration for him. You knew he would see it, and the questions they would bring about terrified you more than the one he just asked.

Suddenly, the sounds of your chocked sobs were overpowered by a loud scream from the white speaker that rested between your upper arm and torso. D/N was awake.

“I’m sorry, Logan,” your voice cracked, and you inwardly cursed as you lowered your head. “That’s D/N, and I—”

His touch cut you off, and it took everything in you to stop yourself from shivering at the sweet contact…even if it was only his fingers around your wrist.

“Don’t apologize, Bub.”

_Bub._

How you missed that name; you loathed it, at first, but now…now you would do anything to hear his mouth make the word again.

“I’m the one who should be doin’ that.” He sighed, letting his eyelids close for a moment. “I shouldn’t have…It’s obvious you care about me just as everyone else here does.”

_You’re wrong._

You wanted to say it, but a small part of you was worried about what he would reply with. What would transpire?

“I’m sorry I can’t remember. I really want to.” His grip on you loosened. “You must know that.”

You nodded at him, but there was no energy in it. You were worn out, emotionally and physically; neither were the walk’s fault, and the thought of dealing with D/N for the next hour seemed to add to the invisible weight pressing down on your eyelids.  

“Good.” He gave you a half-hearted grin. “Do you need some help with…?”

“No,” you answered a bit too quickly, shaking your head. “I can handle D/N, but thanks for the offer. I’ll see you tomorrow, Logan.”

“If you’re sure, then…thanks,” he murmured as you turned away from him, heading for your rooms.

“You’re welcome.”

Once you were inside your suite, you rested against the front door as if your life depended upon its support. The only thing that willed you to move were the ear-piercing cries coming from the nursery and the piece of plastic in your hand.

As you went through the motions, feeding and changing D/N, your whole body begged for sleep, for some time to recoup, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to give it what it needed.

Not tonight. 


	9. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to be posting more regularly now, especially since you can't read this on my Tumblr anymore. I will, however, be posting all the links to my works on Ao3 in a Master List on my Tumblr blog so people can find them. 
> 
> Here we have Logan's POV again. Enjoy!

Logan practically dragged himself into the gym the next morning, his eyelids drooping over his blood-shot orbs.

“Wow.” Alex winced, stilling the speed bag with his gloved hand. “You look horrible.”

“Thanks,” Logan muttered, resting his fists on his hips. “Where’s Bobby? I promised him a match.”

Alex shrugged his shoulders before starting to hit the bag again. “Beats me.”

Logan sighed and picked up the cylinder of cotton, unrolling it slightly before spinning it around his hands. The spar was supposed to be without powers since it was going to take place in the gym instead of the simulation room, and Logan was grateful for it, considering how his body ached for the warm sheets of his bed.

“Sorry I’m late!” Bobby’s voice echoed throughout the large space. Logan looked up from his hands to see him running towards him, a gigantic duffle bag flying behind him.

“It’s fine, Kid. Just go get dressed,” Logan nodded towards the locker room, “and I’ll be here waiting.”

Bobby did as he said, rushing over to the metal door on the other side of the gym. It took him all of six minutes to get his gear on. When he returned to face Logan, his hands were already wrapped, but Logan crossed his arms over his chest, kinking a dark brow at him.

“What?”

“You know what,” Logan replied, his features drawing down into a scowl. “Where’s your head protection?”

Bobby rolled his icicle orbs at him. “I don’t need it…”

Logan dropped his hand on the mutant’s shoulder, the impact making him squeeze his eyes shut. “I’m not going to fight you unless you are wearing head gear and a mouth guard. Understand?”

Bobby looked up at his opponent’s stern face before bowing his head. “Fine…”

“Good.” Logan released him, taking a step back. “Now, hurry up. I don’t have all day.”

When Bobby disappeared for the second time, Alex peered over at Logan, a stupid grin lighting up his expression.

“What?” Wolverine sent a glare at him, twisting his upper limbs in front of his chest.

“Nothing. Just happy the whole incident with S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t change you.”

With what he felt he needed to say said, the older Summers boy returned to his training, leaving Logan to ponder his words. He didn’t feel different, if he always felt this…empty, but he had nothing to compare it to. There was a vast hole in his memory, and he felt that was enough to alter a person. Because of that, he couldn’t agree with Alex; he was a changed man, in some aspect.

It was just as Logan came to this conclusion that Bobby emerged from the locker room for the second time, wearing everything Logan had insisted upon.

“Alright, Kid.” Logan grinned, cracking his neck. “You ready?”

“I am, but what about your gear?” The blond before him frowned.

“Don’t need it.”

“What?” Bobby’s mouth fell open, a line forming between his two brows.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not insulting you,” Logan began. He was unable to keep the corners of his mouth from turning upwards. “I have healing factor, remember?”

“Go easy on him, though,” Alex interjected but didn’t pause in his training. “He looks like he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep last night.”

Bobby turned to give Logan a smug look, raising a bright brow. “Really? What were you up to last night?”

Alex’s snicker filled the room. “Yeah, Logan. What could make you _this_ tired?”

Wolverine rolled his eyes and managed to suppress the laughter piling up at the back of his throat. Who did these guys think he was? He wouldn’t… _would he_? Was he bringing back girls to the mansion before? The thought was unsettling, even though he could see himself capable of doing such a thing. He remembered being lonely most of his life before the X-Men, so sex seemed like a logical solution…He also didn’t pin himself as an unattractive guy; he could probably pick up a girl or two at a bar or something.

But why did the thought repulse him so?

“Wow.” Bobby glanced over his shoulder at Alex. “He’s not even denying it!”

“I know.” Alex chuckled, peaking over at the two of them.

“Okay.” Logan gave the both of them a pointed look, but his smile subtracted from the stern look in his eyes. “That’s enough. Bobby, are we going to do this or not?”

Bobby bent his knees, getting into a starting position. “Bring it on, Old Man.”

And Logan did, despite his lack of sleep and being over one-hundred years old. By the end of the session, Bobby had his palms pressed just above his knees, heaving air in and out as sweat dripped down his face.

“So…what were you and Alex…saying?” Logan asked, slightly out of breath.

Bobby just smiled in response while Alex remained quiet, continuing to punch his speed bag.

* * *

After a shower in the locker room, Logan changed into something more comfortable. He didn’t have to a class to teach today, so he opted for his usual white wife-beater and jeans.

He was on his way back to his suite, his bag over his shoulder, and contemplating going out on his bike when he saw Y/N exit her room, clad in a charcoal pencil-skirt and v-neck shirt. Her low, pointed heels clamored against the stone floor as she turned to lock her door before heading his way.

When she saw him, she greeted him with a small smile, slowing down to stand before him, “Hey, Logan.”

“Hey.” He couldn’t seem to stop staring at her outfit, but when she acknowledged his presence, he brought his eyes to meet her E/C ones. “Where you off to?”

He wanted to tell her that she looked amazing. He didn’t know why he couldn’t.

“Class,” she replied, tucking a loose strand of her H/C hair back.

“Class?” Logan furrowed his brows.

“Yeah.” Her face brightened. “I’m a professor here.”

Logan’s eyes widened at that new bit of information, but then again, it did make sense. She was living here, and he assumed that she had graduated from the school a while ago because, from what he gathered, Charles usually took on students who were past the basics unless their powers demanded immediate attention.

“What do you teach?”

“Power Suppression and Control,” she answered, but when Logan didn’t respond, his face showing his confusion, she added, “It’s just the basics, but a lot of people’s powers, both mental and physical, manifest in high-stress situations or through emotions. My job is to help my students learn techniques to keep their powers in check during those times.”

“Like how to deal with anxiety?”

“Yeah. Kind of, but I’m not a therapist.” She chuckled, and Logan grinned.

“Where’s the little one?” he found himself asking after a moment, truly curious.

Y/N’s face fell at his question, but she answered it, “With her godfather.”

“Godfather?”

She nodded, “My h—D/N’s father got to choose her godfather, and I got to choose her godmother. We both felt it was important that she have someone…should anything happen to us…”

“That’s good thinking. Who’s the godfather, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Charles.”

* * *

“Ah. Logan. What a surprise.”

“As if.” Logan grumbled beneath his breath as he closed Charles’ office door with a soft click, seeing as D/N was asleep in her baby carrier on the mahogany desk.

“Is there anything I could help you with? It’s not often you come to visit me.” Charles remarked with a grin, placing his book down on the end table next to his wheelchair. “Or, perhaps, you aren’t here to see me…”

Logan’s icy eyes darted over to the sleeping baby. He studied her for a moment, taking in the way her little chest rose and fell with her even breaths. Her expression was peaceful; her features were adorable: red mouth, chubby cheeks, button nose, and wisps of dark hair peaking out of the knit hat she wore. He could see you in her, but he also saw someone else, someone he either didn’t know or couldn’t recall. He wondered which was the case with D/N’s father. Forgotten or never met?

He took a few steps towards the tot, as if he was entranced, but he fought back the urge to reach out a hand and touch her. He didn’t want to wake her, especially if she was dreaming something good.

In that moment, he didn’t know why he felt the need to—maybe it was because he could sympathize with someone who wasn’t going to know her dad—but he was going to protect her, just as much if not more than he was going to defend everyone else under this roof. He would never admit it, but, even after being here for a bit over two weeks, despite not remembering and having such difficulty with trying to, he understood why he resided here before the incident.

He stayed because the X-Men were his family.


	10. You're Overthinkin' This, Darlin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments! <3 I hope you enjoy this chapter, too!

“Well, everything seems to be healing properly,” Hank remarked as he straightened.

You closed your legs and sat up. “That’s good to hear, especially after all the trouble she gave.” You smiled at D/N, who was in her baby seat on the floor next to you. She was returning your grin, her tiny lips causing the apples of her cheeks to rise.

“Yes. That was a difficult birth.” Hank peered over at her, his blue hands finding the pockets of his lab coat, before turning back to you. His brow creased. “How are you mentally, though? Are you sleeping better, now? I remember you mentioning having trouble last week.”

“I have been.” You nodded. “D/N’s been better about sleeping through the night. She just wakes up early.”

“Any trouble with dealing with D/N? Breastfeeding going all right?”

“Yes. I haven’t had problems with either.”

“And the whole thing with Logan…How is that going?”

You hesitated in answering this one because it was getting easier to interact with him. It was no longer painful to see him or hear his voice, and you could carry conversations with him. It was almost like it was before…before the two of you became romantically involved with each other.

But at the same time, you still missed him.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “It’s just been…a bit of a challenge getting myself to realize that things will never be the same…or the way I pictured they would be.”

Hank crossed his arms over his chest, the thumb of his right hand finding his furry chin. “I can imagine, but I’m sure that I’m not the only one who wonders…why not tell him? Wouldn’t you feel better if he knew the truth?”

Your gaze met his. “You know how he is, Hank. Before me, he was the most eligible bachelor, bringing home girls nearly every night of the week. To this day, I still don’t understand why he chose me to settle down with, but he did. That decision didn’t happen right away. Marriage and D/N? Both took a lot of discussing, and I don’t blame him for having been reluctant about either. He wouldn’t act the same towards me if he knew the truth; he wouldn’t know _how_ to act because he is back to his old self.”

“I suppose you’re right.” The right corner of Hank’s mouth curved up in a gesture of pity. “But what do you intend to do? What if he brings home another woman? What if he moves on?”

To be honest, you didn’t know the answers to any of those questions, and you weren’t ready to think about them at the moment.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I have to.”

* * *

_Y/N?_

You winced at the volume of Charles’ voice as it ripped through your mind. It was a stark contrast to the silence you were currently maintaining in hopes of getting D/N down for a nap.

_Yes, Professor?_

_I hate to ask this of you, as it seems you are occupied, but I need you to come to my office as soon as possible._

You felt your body deflate at Charles’ request, but whatever it was, it had to be important. You ceased the back and forth motions you were making with your feet, causing the white rocking chair you were currently occupying to cease in its movements. Getting to your feet, D/N half asleep in your arms, you headed over to her crib by the window.

_Will you get someone to come look after her? Someone reliable…_

_Of course._

Within moments, a knock resounded from the doorframe to your daughter’s room, causing you to spin around. “Oh, Logan.”

“Professor said you needed a babysitter.” He smirked, entering the nursery.

_Really, Charles?_

_He was the closest, and considering he is the father…_

You fixed your expression so that it was somewhat welcoming as you walked over to him. “She’s asleep, so all I really need you to do is to watch her.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard.” He shrugged his shoulders, his eyes taking in the space. “Yellow, huh?”

You kinked a brow at him, wondering why he was suddenly fascinated with the wall color. “Yeah. Daffodil, actually.”

His gaze found yours, his orbs almost ice. “Daffodil?”

“Yeah.” You bent over to pick up the little stuffed bunny your daughter favored from the cream carpet. “Like the flower.” You placed the toy in the corner of her crib before smoothing back the hair covering her forehead. “Why?”

“No reason,” he replied, avoiding your curious stare. “Now, get going. Charles is waiting for you.”

You rolled your eyes at him but failed to suppress the urge to throw a smile his way as you walked passed him. “Thanks for doing this, Logan.”

“Any time, Bub.”

* * *

“What is _he_ doing here?” You wished your eyes were actual daggers because the way you were stabbing him with your glare would surely kill him several times over. At your question, the offensive man turned, his hands folded behind his back and his brown orb taking in your form.

“Now, Y/N. You know it wasn’t…” Charles began from his spot behind his desk, but you were quick to shut him up.

“I apologize, _Professor Xavier_ ,” you turned your head, jaw clenched, “but the last time I saw Mr. Fury, he was telling me that he had lost all contact with my husband.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine, Charles.” Nick was away from the tall window, now, and he touched the Professor’s shoulder before placing his attention on you. “I understand that the circumstances surrounding our last meeting were…unfavorable, but I am afraid I had no choice but to seek you out, Mrs. Howlett.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your voice sharp as you asked, “And why is that?”

“We know you can see the past of anyone you have physical contact with,” Fury began, walking over to you. “We have a suspected Hydra member in our custody, but he won’t respond, even after we have used some of our…persuasive techniques. Of course, S.H.I.E.L.D won’t look good if we really start questioning him, and, well, that’s where you come in.”

“So you want _me_ to invade this man’s privacy for _you_?”

“This _man_ doesn’t reserve the right to privacy if he’s done what we believe he has,” Fury countered, leaning against the desk, his brows furrowed.

You looked to the Professor, hoping he would step in for you because he knew how you felt about using your powers.

_You can hear my thoughts. I know you can._

Charles closed his eyes for a brief moment, his shoulders slumping. _This is your choice, Y/N. I won’t let him force you into anything._

You turned your attention back to Fury, “Give me some time to think about it.”

“You have twenty-four hours.”

You gave the director a nod before spinning on your toes and leaving the room, and you didn’t let your mind dwell on the meeting, knowing you would be later tonight.

* * *

When you got back to your suite, D/N was still fast asleep, and you had caught Logan looking through one of the baby books you had gotten her. He was quick to pretend he hadn’t been reading it, stating he just thought the artwork was funny, but you knew your laughter was signal to him enough that you didn’t believe his bullshit.

Shortly after that, he went on his way, but it wasn’t the last time you saw him. In fact, you encountered him on your midnight walk while mulling over Fury’s request.

“Can’t sleep?”

You shook your head, debating whether or not to confide in him. Before the time-travel incident, you wouldn’t even hesitate in asking for his input, but now…he was just a friend. He wouldn’t hold you close or kiss your temple. He wouldn’t say, “You’re over thinkin’ this, Darlin’.” He wouldn’t roll over in the morning, giving you his opinion, one that _he_ spent all night thinking about.

But a small part of you wanted to know if he would, even at the risk of being disappointed.

“I met with Nick Fury today.”

“Who?” He glanced at you as the two of you began a stroll.

“He’s the director of the organization that you volunteered for,” you whispered in answer, refusing to remember the late afternoon Logan told you he was going to be S.H.I.E.LD.’s guinea pig.

“Oh…What did he want?”

“My help.” You sighed, hugging yourself as you trained your eyes on your fuzzy slippers. “He wants me to use my powers to get information from a Hydra suspect.”

“Sounds fun,” Logan chuckled, shoving his hands into the grey pockets of his sweatpants. “How does he expect you to do that?”

“I can go through his memories,” you answered, stopping in the middle of the hall to look at your husband, gauging his reaction.

His bushy brows lifted at your words, his electric blue eyes wide. “You can see a person’s memories?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “through physical contact. I can also manipulate them.”

Logan’s mouth opened, but he must have thought better of what he was about to say. He paused for a minute, before speaking. “So what’s the trouble, then? Why don’t you just help them out?”

His tone was neutral; you knew he had no intention of swaying you either way, and you were grateful for it.

The edges of your lips curved upwards. “I guess there really isn’t anything wrong with it…I just don’t like to use my powers.” You looked down at your palms, spread open before you. “There’s a lot of things I’ve seen…unintentionally.”

“But this time wouldn’t be an accident.” You felt Logan’s gentle touch on your shoulders as his gaze found yours. “You’re in control, and if you don’t like what you see, you can come to me, have a good cry.” You snorted at his suggestion, and he shook his head, his fingers falling from your form. “You’re overthinkin’ this, Darlin’, but something tells me that it’d be bad if you weren’t.” His mouth slanted in a smile. “I won’t blame you if you say don’t agree to it, but don’t say no because you don’t think you could handle it.”

A short laugh escaped you as you bowed your head, nodding it. “Thanks, Logan.” You looked to him. “You’ve somehow said exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“It’s also what you _needed_ to hear.”

And he was right, though he would never fully understand why.

             


End file.
